Chapter 78 | Reborn as the Last Black Dragon

Leopold sat on the edge of the bed, his hands resting on his knees.

He took a deep breath and slowly let it out.

“...Calm down, Leopold. You're just sleeping.”

“You've already held hands. It's just sleeping, it's not like anything is actually going to happen...”

He heard footsteps coming from the hallway, approaching slowly and unhurriedly. The door pushed open, and Isabella walked in.

She had changed into a clean set of old clothes. Her hair was still damp, with a few white strands clinging to her temples and the side of her neck.

She closed the door behind her, and the bolt slid softly into place.

“Finished washing?” Leopold asked dryly.

“Mm.” Isabella walked over to the bed and sat down beside him, the bedboards letting out a familiar creak.

The room fell silent for a few seconds.

“What are you thinking about?” Isabella turned her head to look at him.

“I was thinking about... how we're going to sneak into the cathedral tomorrow,” Leopold said quickly, trying to cover his tracks. “Even though those bandits can serve as a cover, if those black-robes really use some 'stone' to detect spiritual affinity, we might be exposed.”

“So you plan to bypass the detection?”

“Yeah,” Leopold nodded. “I want to slip in through the back of the cathedral. The blacksmith said the black-robes often go in and out through the back door, so there might be another entrance there.”

Isabella listened quietly, not responding immediately. She swept her damp hair to one side, running her fingertips through the ends.

It seemed he had successfully fooled her. Leopold let out a quiet sigh of relief.

“What about you?” Leopold asked, pretending to be casual. “Do you have any ideas?”

“My ideas?” Isabella pretended to ponder for a moment, then turned around and pointed at the bed. “We only have one blanket tonight, Leo.”

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Leopold had just been feeling pleased with himself for successfully changing the subject, only for her casual remark to completely demolish the wall of composure he had painstakingly built up.

He opened his mouth, his gaze falling on the thin blanket on the bed—indeed, there was only one, neatly folded next to the pillow.

“I-I'm not afraid of the cold,” Leopold immediately puffed out his chest. “The noble dragon clan is never afraid of the cold!”

Isabella looked at him, tilting her head with a half-smile on her face. “...Are you sure?”

“Cough, cough!” Leopold cleared his throat. “But... actually, it might get quite cold tonight. Why don't we share it?”

Isabella didn't respond immediately. She sat beside him in silence for a couple of seconds before letting out a soft chuckle.

“Then let's share it.”

“Since Leo doesn't hog the blanket anyway. If you did, I wouldn't sleep with you.”

Leopold let out a sigh of relief. The breath escaped his chest slowly, without him even realizing he had been holding it in.

“...I'm a very quiet sleeper,” he said.

“Is that so?” Isabella tilted her head to look at him, a hint of amusement in her eyes. “Then back in the underground cave, whose wing was draped over me?”

Leopold choked on his words.

“Th-that was... because I was worried you'd be cold,” he explained dryly. “Right, worried you'd be cold.”

“Mm, so it was because you were worried I'd be cold.” Isabella giggled. As expected, Leopold had taken the bait again. “Then will you be worried I'll be cold tonight too?”

Leopold's ears began to burn again. Deciding it was best not to answer, he rolled over and lay down, staring at the ceiling as he pulled the blanket up to his chin.

“...Let's sleep.”

Leopold closed his eyes, trying his best to make his breathing sound slow and steady.

He could feel the slight movement of the bedboards as Isabella slid under the blanket as well.

The night breeze drifted in through the crack in the window, blowing out the oil lamp on the table.

Leopold lay flat on his back, while Isabella lay on her side.

The room remained silent for a long time. Outside the window, the occasional cry of a night bird mingled with the rustling of the distant forest wind. Leopold's breathing finally slowed to a steady rhythm.

“...Bella.”

“Mm?”

“Are you really asleep?”

“Almost...” Isabella's voice was muffled and drowsy.

Leopold didn't answer.

After another long while, only the sound of Isabella's even breathing remained in the room.

Leopold finally gathered the courage to turn his head.

The moonlight outside filtered through the thin clouds, casting a cool, dim light into the room. Isabella lay on her side, facing him, her breathing steady, with a few strands of white hair scattered across the pillow.

He stared at her for a few seconds, then turned back to look at the ceiling.

“...You can actually sleep through this,” he muttered softly under his breath, a trace of an indefinable emotion in his voice.

He reached out and gently pulled the blanket up a bit, covering her bare shoulder.

“Goodnight, Bella.”

Then he closed his eyes, and this time, his breathing finally grew heavy.

The next morning, when Leopold woke up, Isabella was already awake. She was sitting on the windowsill, holding a cup of coffee she had obtained from somewhere.

“Morning.” She looked back, holding in a laugh. “You talked in your sleep last night.”

“...What did I say?” Leopold sat up, propping himself up on the edge of the bed and rubbing his eyes.

Isabella hopped down from the windowsill and walked to the bedside with her coffee cup. She tilted her head, making absolutely no effort to hide the playful smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“You said—‘Don't go.’” She mimicked Leopold's tone, adding a touch of groggy slurriness. “‘Don't go... Bella.’”

Leopold's sleepiness instantly vanished. He froze, his mouth agape, for two whole seconds.

“...And then? Wh-what else did I say?”

“Then you rolled over and wrapped yourself in the blanket,” Isabella said with a helpless smile, taking a sip of her coffee. “I had to tug it back three times.”

“Why are you getting so rowdy in your sleep, Leo?”

Leopold sat on the bed, his messy hair sticking up in all directions, still not completely recovered from the shocking realization that he had talked in his sleep.

“I-I'm not usually like this,” Leopold rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. “It's probably because... someone was next to me before I slept, so I'm not used to it.”

“Then you'd better start getting used to it.” Isabella tilted her head, looking at him over her coffee cup.

Leopold didn't answer. He lowered his head, pretending to straighten the corner of the blanket, but the crimson tips of his ears betrayed him.

Isabella didn't press the matter. She set her coffee cup back on the windowsill and turned around, her tone shifting to business. “I went out for a walk this morning. The back door of the cathedral is indeed open, and there's no one guarding it.”

Leopold looked up. “No one guarding it?”

“Yes.” Isabella nodded. “I took a look from a distance. The back door is slightly ajar, and there's a narrow alley next to it. I reckon we can climb in from there.”